


9 - 1= hollow

by redamancys



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Recovery, mako poisoning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redamancys/pseuds/redamancys
Summary: Recovery from mako poisoning may not be as easy as Cloud may think but in Sector Five, a certain florist makes things easier.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife
Comments: 13
Kudos: 62





	9 - 1= hollow

Cloud's world narrows to snidbits of lucity: Glass. A barren wasteland. More noise and movement than he's heard in a while. Then, wooden floorboards spilling flowers from their broken edges and stain glass tinted green and a woman's eyes that see past the film of mako to _him_.

He tries to memorise her face but the world tilts and soft blue fabric is pressed to his cheek and it's all he sees before his view changes to that of his feet and then gravel and then static and soon nothing at all.

 _He's_ nothing at all.

'A.' The letter he holds onto. It's sound that loudges itself in his throat and makes it's home there.

The other letters will come with time to form a name. One, that matches the likeness of that which filters through the bedroom window; just as warm and bright and nurturing. 

For now, this—this is enough. 

"A…erith."

It's worth the effort to see the surprise on her face as she turns around to face him and the victory of that smile he's come to know as irrevocably hers directed back on him again.

He reaches for her through the dust speckled sunlight and her hands fold around his to hold it in place. 

He's never felt steadier.

"Mm. I'm Aerith. It's nice to meet you… Cloud."

They settle into a routine. Aerith will bring up his meals and she'll pull up a chair next to the bed as he eats—even if it's not much. She'll chat up a storm and he listens and responds when his throat decides it actually wants to work.

He sleeps most of the time, though. _Real sleep._ Not the half-life of mako that blends reality into something far from lucid but not quite dreaming.

The times where he's awake are when she helps him make laps of the small room with an arm around his waist. His legs are weak under him and shake like a newborn deer's but he stubbornly doesn't look at her as they make their way round.

After he's stable enough on his feet to attempt stairs he can finally have a meal at the table. 

Aerith is ecstatic. Her mom, less than so. She's pleasant and he's told he can stay to recover but as soon as he's fit, Elmyra wants him to leave just like the SOLDIER that brought him here. 

Aerith stage whispers that she's trying to work every angle to convince her mom to let him stay longer.

Elmyra just spoons more soup into his bowl and tells him to eat up and get stronger and while he's here, he might as well be useful. 

Being housebound as he is, he gets roped into baking and learns how to make a mean pumpkin pie from scratch, even though standing for so long makes his legs start to tremble pretty bad. He flops into bed by the end of it and Aerith teases him that he looks like a snow covered Chocobo with all that flour in his hair. In response, he flings an arm over his eyes. 

Aerith laughs on her way out and he hides his blush in the flower scented pillow that reminds him of her. 

"He's Shinra." 

" _Ex_ -Shinra." 

He smirks, a slow drag of his lips, at her emphasis—in the right tone and the right place when he's not there to stress it himself.

He doesn't know who wins the argument or if there's a winner at all because before he knows it, he's drifting off to the sound of her voice from the floor below. 

He watches her from the balcony as she waters her flowers—dainty little things that they are. Every once in a while she'll stop to wave at him or smile in his direction and Cloud is at a loss.

He asks her once, when they're sitting side by side on the stairs with shoulders almost touching, why she does that and she tells him it's because it's nice knowing he's there. Cloud responds to her waving from there on end, tentative at first, then anticipating. 

Aerith beams. 

Eventually, he's strong enough to venture into the garden himself and Aerith explains to him the meaning behind each of the different flowers they pass, picking a few to make a bouquet for his current living space. 

"To brighten the room," she tells him. 

They're yellow and smell sweetly like his pillow.

She takes one of these flowers from her basket and looks at him, then back to the flower in her hand before she gets really close to his face to tuck it over his ear. 

He stills at her touch, eyes wide as she takes a moment to arrange it properly. Cloud doesn't breathe the entire time. 

"Yep, they match!" She says cheerfully, as she pulls back.

She looks so pleased with her handiwork that Cloud has to ask, quiet, "What does?" 

"Your hair, silly."

"Ah." 

"Hmm? What's this?" She leans forward and gets real close to him again. 

"Now your face matches the red roses." 

Cloud chokes on his spit.

"L-let's get going!"

He manages a lap around the plot of land before he has to sit down on the front porch and catch his shuddering breath. He's sweating and more than a little shaky still. 

Aerith takes pity on him and pops into the house with a chirp of _just wait a sec_ and reappears not long after with two glasses of lemonade in hand. 

"From The Fifth Cafe. I bought them earlier this morning." She hands him one of the cold beverages. "When you're strong enough I'll take you there. It'll be like a date!" 

"Eh?" Cloud almost drops his drink.

"To repay me for taking care of you." Aerith grins teasingly. 

Cloud looks out across the flower fields and wraps his hands tighter around his glass, reveling in the coolness it brings.

He takes a breath, settles his heart before he says, calmer now, "I've been... staying here for quite awhile..." His eyes stay locked onto a patch of yellow lilies even as he continues, more confident. "Just there?" he asks.

A beat of silence as she takes in his words, then, Aerith smiles, all teeth, and says she has a list. 

The flowers between the cracks in the stone walkway are treated to a lemon bath as Aerith clinks their drinks.

Between sips of his lemonade, Cloud hopes her list never ends.

When he can make it more than once around the garden, Aerith sets him to work watering the flowerbeds with her. 

She shows him how big a pumpkin should be before it's ripe enough to pick. Shows him the best places to watch for butterflies and the flowers that attract them. Shows him all the hidden corners of her tucked away world she's cultivated. 

Gradually, Cloud will come to know the garden off by heart. But sooner than that, a certain florist weaves her way into his life. 

"I'm not a SOLDIER." 

"I know. Zack told me."

"Zack… you—"

"We were never… not really." 

"Oh." 

"Got to look forward, not back, you know."

Aerith takes him down Petal Lane and he gets his first view of the central area of Sector Five. 

They're greeted by a woman who exclames, "Oh, Aeirth! The flowers you brought last time look wonderful! The kids just love them and have been asking when you're going to visit again." 

The woman glances at Cloud and a look of realization crosses her face. 

"Ah, is this that boy you were talking about? The sickly one that's been staying with you?" 

"Mn. This is Cloud. He's a mercenary of sorts. He's here to help me today." 

"Well, if that's the case, Ms. Folia seems like she's in a spot of trouble…" 

"C'mon, Cloud. Lets go!"

Aerith gets a hold of his wrist and leads him towards a large building called the Leaf House. They end up on a wild goose chase around the sector looking for missing children.

Cloud starts to look a little pale by the time they've found three of them so Aerith tells him to sit down and rest—look, there's a blue bench right over there—she can find the rest on her own. Cloud, through increasingly labored breathing, insists that he's well enough and forges on ahead. 

The final two kids are eventually found and by then Cloud's vision starts going blurry on the walk back. He thinks Aerith says something next to him but he's too busy focusing on putting one foot in front of the other to know what it is. 

They arrive to a plethora of smiling faces and questions and thank yous. At least Cloud thinks they're smiles. It's hard for him to tell with the darkness edging in on his vision. With the way his hearing is ringing with a high pitched sound, he doesn't catch what they're asking either. 

He nods at their questions anyway and he barely notices the touch to his shoulder because his limbs are starting to be overtaken with numbness.

It's not long before he's so lightheaded that his legs give out underneath him and he falls head first into the dark.

("Hey, Cloud. What's your dream?")

("I thought it was to be a SOLDIER. Now, I'm not so sure.") 

"Cloud, you've been pushing yourself too much lately." 

"I'm fine. I made it into town didn't I?" 

Aerith has her hands on her hips and her lips pursed as she thinks. 

"Ah! I know!" She does a cute little hop on the balls of her feet and claps her hands together. "I'll be your bodyguard!"

"My what?"

"Bauh. Dee. Guard. To guard your body from you and your overly adventurous outings so you won't collapse again. You'll have to listen to me from now on when I say you're overdoing it! Okay?" 

Cloud rolls his head on the pillow to look at the wall. Then, to look out the window and sees how far away the garden is, but more importantly how far away it _feels_ right now. Then, back to Aerith—awaiting his response—and the sparkle of her eyes. 

"Okay."

Even pressed down heavily in his bed by his own exhaustion, Cloud feels lighter than ever listening to her joyous laugh. 

It's mid morning when the headaches start. 

Aerith thinks it might be from the overexertion so she puts him on complete bed rest after the first time she catches him trying to sneak down the stairs. She lays buckets and garden tools and boxes all down the hall like an obstacle course to alert her of any future escape attempts. 

(He may or may not have botched a few attempts after that just so he could see her—he was getting bored in his room, okay—but he won't tell her that.)

The balcony, Cloud figures, is free game though. He gets past her boobytraps to the thankfully bucket free landing, except for the one he nabs to use as a seat, for some well needed fresh air. 

Aerith lets it slide. As long as he's sitting, she's happy. 

In the afternoon, she leaves him to his own devices and sets off on some errands around town. 

When the sun starts to set and the shadows stretch long and far, he catches sight of Aerith's form returning from the Leaf House. 

He finishes watering a pot of carrots and sets the watering can aside to watch her. 

She stops on the bridge and excitedly waves something over her head for him to see but it's too far away for him to make out clearly. She lowers her arms and makes a mad dash for the house so quickly he's afraid she might trip.

Her footsteps sound up the stairs, followed by a thunk of one of her buckets probably getting punted from her haste, and then he gets a quick glimpse of her before a piece of paper is shoved in his face. 

The words, _get well soon Cloud_ , are written in bright, crayon colors. They're all he can see for the entire duration of Aerith's explanation of how the children miss him and how they hope he gets better and look, they made him this card. See, they all signed it and everything. 

Eventually, Aerith releases him from his crayon prison so he can finally take the card in it's entirety and notes that yes, all the children's signatures are indeed printed on it, some easier to make out than others. Who's Moogie? 

"They're worried about you. You gave them quite the scare." 

Her voice goes low and soft when she says, "Gave me a scare." 

"Sorry." He looks down and away, but the gentle touch to his cheek blossoms surprise in him and he finds his way to her again. With widening eyes, and every word stolen from his lips, he sees her. Closer than ever. 

"But you're okay now," she breathes.

He must be tired. It's the only reason he can think of to explain why he leans into the touch. Why his hand comes up, just short of hers and reaches— _reaches_ —

He's too late, though. Aerith gently removes her hand from his face and turns to the garden expanse below them. She leans her arms on the railing, watching. 

"The fireflies will be out soon," Aerith murmurs. She's quiet, like any sound could scatter the tiny lights before they even appear. 

He's silent for a moment, hand poised in midair still, like he doesn't quite know what to do with it, before he moves to join her. 

Looking across the expanse like this he realises that there's something tranquil about her piece of the world at dusk—an oddity in Midgar. The vibrancy of day is muted to soft edges and even softer colors in wait of the rise of new light; the moon, the switch of a lamp, or even fireworks. 

Aerith makes him notice a lot of things lately. _Care_ about things he never considered before. Even the tiniest of lights. 

So, he waits.

Fireflies do appear, just like she said. Their dance is mesmerising. Her wonder, more so. 

They stay out longer together, maybe longer than they should, speaking of everything and nothing. Here, there's no rush, not really. The evening is langid, slow. Budding slowly and unfurling with a gentle curl. But when Aerith rests her head on her folded arms and she yawns, Cloud knows their night has reached it's zenith. 

"I should probably head to bed…" she mumbles into her elbow. She pushes off from the railing with a sleepy wobble and regards him with soft eyes.

"Goodnight, Cloud."

Something small and wistful and _content_ slides into place in his chest. It's unlike the piercing, cold steel that he's more familiar with. Instead, it settles behind his ribs like warm honey—the low burn of a campfire. 

"Night… Aerith," he says softly. 

The kids feel bad about him passing out after looking for them so they make an exception and allow him into their secret hideout. Aerith says adults aren't allowed in, so they must be taking a shine to him already.

Apparently, there's a game that's simple and light in exercise and incorporates music that they want Cloud to try now that he's up and moving again.

Aerith is beside herself in excitement. Cloud feels like he's slowly dying inside with each dance move he completes. But with Aerith cheering him on so diligently, he can't not keep going.

Right? 

Cloud spreads so much joy through dancing that Moogie, the owner of the mysterious name on the card, appears. He finds out that he can exchange Moogle coins he gets from games for items. All he can afford to buy is a Moogle membership made of flimsy cardboard, though. 

"Guess we'll have to save up," Aerith comments with a shrug.

Cloud has his eye on a certain product and makes it _well known_ to Moogie not to sell it before he saves up.

He has someone he wants to gift it to. 

"Here you go. Two hot herbal teas. Enjoy!" 

They thank the barista and grab their freshly brewed drinks from The Fifth Cafe's counter. 

"It's sweltering out you know," Cloud mutters under his breath. He says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Like that's going to stop me," Aerith replies with a wink. 

Cloud shakes his head and sighs. 

They settle with their drinks at a nearby table in the shade and that's when he notices that there's small, multicolored flowers floating in the tea. 

Cloud wonders which flower patch of hers they came from. The one by the lamp? Near the waterfall? Or maybe they're from where Aerith goes to sometimes in the afternoon—that building Aerith said she first met him at. Cloud remembers in skips and beats of that place but it's more feeling than memory. Nothing solid really takes shape in his mind. 

He remembers her, though. 

He's jolted out of his reverie when Aerith burns her tongue on her drink.

Cloud stands up so fast he knocks his chair over and hits his knee on the table, sloshing his drink. 

"You okay?" he asks, as if he's not the one with a new bruise blooming on his skin 

"Um, I think so. Just too hasty, I guess," she chuckles.

"Slow down," he chides. 

"Why? You worried?" Her lips twist coy, then, open wide as she finally notices the spill across the tabletop. "Ah, your tea!" 

As she goes to ask the cafe owner for a rag, Cloud rights his chair and sits glaring at her tea while she's gone like it caused him a personal offence.

"Let's get lemonade next time. With lots of ice," he tells her, after the mess is cleaned up and they're sipping their finally cooled down drinks. 

Aerith smiles bright, like a flower in the afternoon sun, at the words of _next time_

"Cloud," she says, serious. "You'll get brain freeze."

Wack-a-Box is the trendy new game amongst the kids. The girl waiting for him at the hideout, Sarah, who's clearly informed of his previous fainting spell, says to only attempt it if he's up for it. She hands him a nail covered bat and tells him their scores are tough to beat. 

And they _are_. 

With his depleted strength, Cloud can't even break half of the boxes. However, he does get a moogle coin for his troubles. 

Aerith suggests that he should come back tomorrow to try again. 

So, the next day he does. And the day after that and the day after that.

He stashes the nail bat behind a pot of lettuce, at the side of Aerith's house where there's a slight outcropping of the roof that's used as a makeshift shed, so that Elmrya won't see it. He collects it each morning to tackle the minigame like it's trooper training all over again. 

By the end of the week his muscles are screaming at him but he finally beats the first mark. He rests for a few days. And then a few more days after that because, Aerith, are muscles supposed to hurt this much? 

"Cloud."

"Cloudy." 

"Mr. Do Anything. You overdid it, again, " she informs him.

"Hn."

Aerith picks him up from the kids hideout all excited to bring him along to check out the church. 

"It's a long trip but you've been working out and walking multiple laps of the town. It's probably about that length in total. We'll take breaks on the way."

Cloud's doing a lot better these days, minus the headaches that come and go. He's surprised Elmrya hasn't kicked him out yet for all his regained stamina. Still, he's grateful all the same. There's things he still wants to do in this sector. 

Cloud and Aerith make their way through the dirt and scrap metal laden roads, stopping at the train station for lunch at the local vendors. Sweet potatoes for Aerith. Meatballs for Cloud. 

He gets a free Chocobo candy for ordering a spicy level over fifty and he nonchalantly hands it to Aerith while he tucks into his meal. She thanks him and puts it in her jacket pocket. 

"For later," she says as she gives it a pat. 

Their meal is serenaded by the jutebox next to them and when they're finished, Cloud spends some time jabbing at it to see if there's more than one tune to choose from. Sadly, there isn't.

"You have that CD from the kid's dance game, right?" Aerith questions. 

"I'm not interested in reliving that," Cloud says shortly. 

He plays the song anyway to make her happy but scuttles away real fast in the supposed direction they need to go. Mid bobbing of her head to the beat Aerith notices his scadadling. 

"Cloud! Not so fast," she calls after him.

His scuttling slows.

Leaving the jutebox and train station behind, they have to pass through a broken opening in a chain-link fence to get to the area behind it and while trying, the bottom, front edge of Aerith's dress gets caught.

Cloud spends a minute attempting to get it loose without ripping it further while Aerith pokes at his hair and says, "It kinda sways like long grass in the wind, don't you think?" 

"Never noticed." 

Dress saved and hair gel brand name wheedled out of him, Cloud realises soon enough that the path they're on is littered with foes.

He's suddenly pissed that the route to place the Aerith has been going to all this time was so dangerous. He lays the smackdown to the closest enemies, glad he still has his nail bat with him, and makes short work of clearing the first section off all monsters.

"Wow!" Aerith cheers, clearly impressed.

"Is it always like this?" Cloud asks, disgruntled. He leans heavily on the bat trying to look cool but mostly to hide how winded he is. 

One of the Hedgehog Pies tries to get up and Aerith, nophased, bonks it over the head with her staff. It falls back down with a pathetic yelp. 

"Hm. Lately, there's been more?" 

Cloud's frown gets more intense at this knowledge.

"I'll come with you from now on," he tells her. 

"Oh?" 

And together they go. 

Aerith freezes or blasts enemies with magical energy before Cloud can reach them and from there on end it becomes a game of who can hit first. By the time they reach their destination they're working in sync instead with properly timed spells and swipes of the nail bat to destroy anything in their path. They become quite the team.

"Well, here we are."

Aerith skips ahead to tend to her flowers at the back of the church as Cloud looks around the building. 

The space is quite large inside and has the same calming effect on him that Aerith's home does. She's even growing the same lilies here, too. Cloud wonders if they're her favorite. Wonders if he should stay here when he gets kicked out—curl up next to the flowers on the wooden floorboards and make camp. Wonders what his visions mean and if there's any reason to them. 

Cloud gets no answers to his mind's queries as he ends up dozing against the wall and wakes to Aerith tucking one of her precious lilies over his heart.

"What's this for," he rasps hoarsely, voice still rough with sleep.

"To find your way back." 

Back? He never left. 

"But... I'm right here." 

Aerith shakes her head, and Cloud thinks the way she sometimes falls into these sombers moods don't quite fit her. 

"It's not that, it's just… it's silly."

Cloud doubts that it is but he waits for her to continue.

"Sometimes, in the early days when you slept for so long, I worried that you… slipped back into that space in between waking. It's silly, right?" 

He doesn't remember much of that first week to know how touch and go things were, even after he woke. But he's sure of one thing.

"I'd find my way to you again." 

An intake of breath, then, "Is it really that simple? I'm very good at hide and seek." 

It's lighthearted but tinged with a melancholy she can quite shake from her voice. She tries though.

"Nevermind that. Let's get picking!" She drops a basket into his lap and instructs him to fill it with as many flowers as he can stuff into it. "Be careful with the stems, though."

Cloud spends his gonna-get-kicked-out moggle coin savings on a pair of earrings. 

"They're so pretty." 

"They give higher defence. So…" 

Cloud scratches at the back of his head. He toyed with the idea of buying the bulletproof vest instead. He still thinks he might. He'd like nothing more than to fit one over her head everytime she wanders into the farthest reaches of the sector. But he thought she'd protest. Plus, these earrings suit Aerith better anyways. They catch the light as her fingers play with the dangling, moon shaped metal. 

"Thank you, Cloud," she says brightly. "If an enemy gets too close I can also use them as shurikens!"

"Please don't use them as shurikens."

Ms. Folia sprains her ankle while attempting to fulfill her dream, whatever that may be, and recruits Cloud for help until she can literally get back on her feet. 

Boxes of donated books need hauling in. Faucets need fixing. New coloring supplies and paper need to be organized. The small tasks aren't much, but added together they keep him surprisingly busy, plus, he gets gil. 

After straightening some wayward desks he notices two stick figure drawings of a girl in pink with a matching ribbon and a boy in blue on the chalkboard.

The kids aren't being the least bit subtle with their pictures. Still, he pretends it doesn't bring a hint of a smile to his face. 

The next day, there's hearts drawn around them and Cloud starts to wonder if this blackboard actually gets used for any schooling at all.

He decides to write out some basic arithmetic for the kids to tackle because if they're so inclined to doodle, they might as well learn something while they're at it. 

7 - 5.

16 + 2. 

Halfway while writing 8 + 6 he wonders why he even cares. 

9 - 1 and he abandons the numbers completely to frustratingly scribble out his own doodles of things the headaches bring with them.

He starts to draw a circle of the materia that he keeps seeing but his chalk snaps less than three quarters of the way through drawing and his patience snaps with it. 

He leaves half formed thoughts in the shape a 'C' behind in the school room as he heads back through Petal Lane to the closest thing that feels like home. 

Aerith gets sick. He's banned from being anywhere near her more for his sake than hers, on the basis of protecting his recovering state. But after the first day he already begins to miss her. 

He pauses at the stairway steps to look at her closed door and he wonders when her presence became so important to him that he would feel like this without her being near. 

He thinks he's being dumb, but the worry for her persists. 

With a shake of his head he leaves to grab the nail bat from behind the lettuce and heads to the kids hideout. He lets his frustrations out by smashing boxes and training as hard as he can. 

He reaches a new high score but the milestone somehow feels lackluster. The kids are impressed though and Sarah hands him his reward of a bright, spangeling new bangle. She also gives him a handmade card, much like the one he received not all that long ago. 

"From us. Make sure she receives it, okay?" 

This elicits a round of chirps from the other kids wishing Aerith well.

"Oh and I almost forgot." She digs into her back pocket and then holds out her hand to display five gil. 

"The delivery fee." 

Cloud stares at the money, debating. He shifts his weight. Puts his hands on his hips. 

"No charge," he says after a moment. 

"Huh?" He gets a wide-eyed and confused look in return.

"For Aerith, right?" Even to his ears his voice sounds fond. 

There's a pause, then Sarah's face breaks into a huge smile.

"Right!"

After that, well, he wanders aimlessly through town looking for odd jobs. 

He takes Aerith's shift at the cafe and earns himself a new of title of Mercenary-Florist-Barista. He truly becomes the Mr. Do Anything Aerith had called him once before.

After a couple of hours of placing coffee orders it's close to sunset. His feet take him to the classroom again, to where slanted light from the window splays gold lit shapes across the chalkboard. There, he stares at the completed problems on the chalkboard, 9 - 1= hollow standing out the most.

He wipes the chalkboard down and starts again.

Aerith gets better. Cloud's days become brighter. It's a simple thing, really. But makes all the difference.

The first time Cloud holds her hand, when he's not delirious from mako, is by mistake. _A happy accident_ Aerith will tell him later.

They've ventured down the narrow lanes to the sector's vendors and are stopped at a booth.

"They have new items in stock and I thought we should…" Cloud trails off. 

Aerith is staring at him with a look of… amazement? Awe? Cloud's... not quite sure. It's not something that gets directed his way very often, if at all. He's not showing off any fighting skills. Not saving the day or something. Maybe he's mistaken?

"What's wrong?" he questions. 

Aerith blinks a couple of times, shaking her head to seemingly snap herself out of whatever daze she was in, and lifts their hands up between them—their very much linked, fingers intertwined and all, hand holding, _hands_. 

Cloud let's go like he was burned. 

"S-sorry. I didn't realize I—" he stammers. 

Aerith tilts her head.

"Why? It's nice."

She gets all up in his face again, like she does, while Cloud's having an internal meltdown. His expression doesn't show it, of course. He's _cool_.

… 

Okay, maybe it shows a little.

Aerith just hums to herself and begins to browse the stall's wears. 

"Don't worry. You'll get the hang of it," she sing-songs. 

Her eyes rove over the stock and stop at something particularly shiny. 

"How about this?" She picks up a materia and holds it up for him to see. 

Even the distorted reflection of his face clearly shows how pathetically lovesick he looks.

They buy three which makes Cloud broke again. Strangely, he's okay with it. 

Maybe, back when he passed out, he hit his head harder than he thought. 

The second time he holds her hand, is when Cloud wants to test something. He calls it a training exercise. 

"Like Shinra?"

"Sure. Something similar," he mutters. 

It's not similar at all. 

They're in the garden walking next to each other on the gray stone pathway. Cloud's face is flaming already but he musters up his courage and goes for it.

He flexes his hand, lifts, and then their fingers are brushing. Touching. _Linking_. And soon swaying between their bodies to the rhythm of Aerith's tune.

The fit is just right, like something in Cloud's soul centers at the contact.

"The primroses bloomed today! Wanna see?" 

"... Mn."

They mosey off together, hand in hand.

Flower crowns are Aerith's next big idea. 

The sector is abuzz about the two florists bringing baskets full of flowers for the children to make creations out of them.

It'll be good to improve his hand-eye coordination, or so Aerith tells him. 

It's how he finds himself in front of the Leaf House, weaving together stems and trying to level up his dexterity. The table he's at is too low and the stool too short and his knees are sky high but Aerith is humming next to him and, well, it soothes even the grumpiest of Mercs. 

He's gotta get his two cents in regardless, and asks, "Is this even part of the curriculum?"

"Who cares," Aerith says cheerfully, as she plunks another crown on his head. 

After the kids finish making their own, they start on necklaces and bracelets for the two of them and Ms. Folia.

Aerith thinks he looks real cute. Cloud mutters that he wishes his 'flower bracer' had materia slots but remembers he doesn't have any materia anyway. 

"Oh, I have one," Aerith pipes up. 

Cloud raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"It's useless, Cloud."

"Maybe you just don't know how to use it." 

To prove her point or to just get a laugh at Cloud, she places the materia into the nailbat's slot.

He beats the wack-a-box minigame with it equipped and says _he's sure he felt stronger with it._ Aerith teases him that maybe it's just because he likes having something of hers close by. Cloud is silent but he doesn't deny it. 

"Technically, it's my mother's." 

Technically, Cloud has seen the heirloom before in his visions. 

He still doesn't know what it's supposed to mean. 

Cloud has another incident, as he calls it.

He most certainly didn't pass out this time. He just… went away for a little while and woke up... not on his feet.

Lurching sideways and creating a Cloud shaped dent in one of her flowerbeds doesn't count as fainting, right?

"It most certainly counts," Aerith huffs. She hugs her knees and gives him a _look_.

"I need to get up," Cloud tries. 

"Nope." She pops the last syllable cheerfully with the smach of her lips. 

Aerith then proceeds to poke his forehead and that little pressure is enough to push his head back down to the ground. He won't admit it but his vision stops spinning slightly.

"I'm crushing your flowers," he tries again. 

"They're strong. They can handle another five minutes." 

"Tch." 

He pouts and flops his head to the side petulantly. Some grass pokes him in the eye. He's close to swearing.

"Don't make me sit on you," Aerith warns. 

She goes and talks to the nearby flowers, that aren't flattened by his impromptu dive about her day so far.

Cloud, finally staying still, notices that he has a good view from the angle he's laying at. He can stare all he wants, too, because she's so absorbed in relaying her thoughts to the garden to notice. 

Perhaps falling over has it's good points. Maybe he should fall over more often. 

_Maybe_ he needs to _get it together, Strife_.

His point of interest finishes her chat and he diverts his eyes quickly to the sky. 

"Feeling better?" Her face comes into view as she leans over him, curls of her hair tickling his skin. 

He does, in fact, feel better and is about to mumble out an affirmative when a yellow blob lands on the tip of his nose. Aerith laughs, delighted. 

"It seems even the butterflies like you."

 _Do you?_ His traitorous heart wants to ask in return. 

He's dizzy again after that for other non mako or headache related reasons when she kisses his cheek. It scares off the butterfly in a flutter. 

"It was blocking my view," she says, as if answering his questioning look.

"Your aim was off," he crokes out before he can stop himself.

"How so?" She kisses his other cheek and pulls back to gauge his reaction. He's just as flustered and stupid the second time. 

"And now?" 

"Still off." 

" _Still_? Wha—"

His head spins when he soars up to capture her lips with his. The angle is awkward and _he's_ awkward but it's _perfect_. 

Aerith is perfect for him.

"Right on target," he breathes in the small space between them.

The blush that spreads over Aerith's cheeks is something Cloud decides to name one of the top five wonders of Sector Five. She also claims the entire top ten spots. He knows the sector would agree. 

Aerith laughs and swats at his arm for his corny line. She's not complaining when she kisses him again, though. 

And neither is he. 

Cloud saves up some money to buy a bicycle. It's rather beat up and the paint is horribally chipped but it _works_ and will get him around fine enough.

Elymra narrows her eyes at the metal contraption when he parks it in front of the porch. 

"If you are well enough to ride a _bike_ of all things then you should—"

"Atrophy!" Aerith pipes up from behind Cloud's left shoulder. "Very severe," she says from his right.

She grabs both shoulders to peer around him, cheeky grin on full blast. "It's all part of the recovery process, Mom." 

Elmyra doesn't quite roll her eyes but it's a close thing. 

"Shinra boy…" she starts.

Cloud's fight or flight inctints go into overdrive at her tone. She points her ladle an inch away from his nose like he's a bug to be squashed. The sunlight bouncing off it is blinding. 

"There's a tin of paint next to your bat-full-of-nails. On the left hand side. Also, these carrots aren't going to chop themselves—we need them for the soup." 

She heads back inside with a swish of dress and then that's that, really. 

"Yes Ma'am," Cloud says to the closed front door. 

Aerith fist pumps the air. 

(They don't talk about how Elymra found out about the nail bat.) 

Their next foray to the church consists of Cloud, peddling their newly painted bike and Aerith, firing spell after spell as they zip past enemies. 

"Watch this, Cloud!" 

She twirls and spins her staff, sending magical energy flying all around them that sparkles like diamonds.

Despite almost getting hit upside the head, Cloud still thinks it's a stunning sight.

What would be even better is if Aerith would actually _hold on_ —to the bike, to him, or whatever—while she's eliminating everything within sight. He's had to reach back and catch her by the waist too many times at this point. 

"Arm around me," he utters, gruffly. 

"Ooh, so forward."

"So you don't fall off." 

"But you'll catch me, right?" 

"Isn't that a bodyguard's job?" 

"You're right. I'll make sure to catch _you_ then. I'm the bodyguard. You're the _boyfriend._ " 

Cloud's ability to balance malfunctions so terfically that they both end up teetering off the bike. He lays there, sprawled out on the dirt for a minute, after reassuring himself that Aerith is okay, and blinks stupidly at the sector five plate.

"That's true," he marvels.

Cloud starts to save his money in earnest.

He looks into accomodations in Sector Five and finds that there's a few small spaces for rent. They're nothing compared to the homeliness of the Gainsbourgh home or even the church, but it's got walls and basic amenities and that's all Cloud needs. More importantly, it's not far from her.

So, there's that. 

He's thinking of writing to Zack about moving their mercenary-for-hire base to this sector instead of seven. There's always things to be done here and gil to be made, and he's reluctant to leave, for… reasons.

His plans go bust the following day when Elymra tells him she wants him gone from the sector by the end of the week.

"You traded power for a normal life," she tells him, as if his life was forfeit the moment mako flooded his system. As if he's a dangerous, wild animal needed to be chased out of town because of it. 

But Cloud has always known he's never been extraordinary or normal enough for anyone, hasn't he? 

Apparently, even for her daughter.

He finds her near the waterfall, sitting idly by the pond and tracing patterns in the water with her bare toes. 

She's ditched her jacket and he sees for the first time that her favorite pink dress has small straps that are pulled taunt over her pale shoulders. He can't help but stare. 

'It's hot out, isn't it?" She comments without turning around. She makes a big swirl with her toe, followed by what seem like symbols but they're nothing Cloud recognises. 

"Come into the house then. It's cooler in the shade."

She leans back on her hands and tilts her head, debating for a minute, quiet.

"Or, we could take a swim?" She has a devious glint in her eyes when she finally turns to look at him. "They teach you how at your barracks?"

"Sure, but—" He can't finish his sentence because Aerith pulls on his arm and then they're falling in together, displacing the water in one big splash.

They surface quickly, looking like half drowned cats, and Cloud's matching frown is the icing on the cake that sends Aerith into a fit of giggles. Her dress keeps puffing up around her like a balloon even as she tries poking it down between gasps, electing a lift of the lips from Cloud. 

She splashes him. 

He let's her.

And round and round it goes from there.

Their laughter rings out bright and clear like the exchange of water droplets sparkling in the air. When they tire, they're content to lazily drift about.

Floating on their backs, side by side, she speaks of her love of the steel sky. All the flowing hopes and dreams mingling together. 

He catches her words in muted fragments—the water in his ears dulling all sound—so he stands up, his feet seeking purchase on flat stone.

And something about the angle he's looking at her tickles at his brain and that sharpens into turns into full blown pain. 

All he can hear is the sound of a materia hitting the water and the _howling _instead of the roaring of the waterfall. All he sees is steel striking and her—always her—through the ripples of the surface and then he's coughing water out of his lungs. _Heaving,_ as she holds him through it.__

____

____

"I'm sorry, Cloud. I'm so sorry."

He lays there on the bank of the river and tries to breathe, to make sense of everything in his head. But he can't shake the phantom feeling of the dead girl in his arms. 

"It's okay. You're okay." 

Cloud eyes are burning and he can't be certain if the liquid running down his face is only just river water.

She buries him in every blanket she can find after they've dried off and are in fresh clothes. Elymra took one look at them when they stumbled in and sighed. 

"That Aerith," she said with the shake of her head and a small chuckle. 

He starting to think that Elymra might be realising he's not quite the troublemaker she thinks he is.

He's also starting to think he might have to live the rest of his life as a heaping lump of floral flannel. He pokes a foot out to show Aerith that his feet are red, not purple—it's summer, he won't catch a chill from their dip. Also, wasn't cooling off the point?

"Ah. You're right." 

He's unearthed from beneath the blanket mountain and is left with a single light, blue blanket that Aerith smoothes over his legs.

She plunks herself near the end of his bed and is quiet for a while, hands in her lap fiddling with the bracelets around her delicate wrists. She must decide to herself that's too far away, so she scoots closer till she can peer at him. 

She looks strangely sad and he has an urge to fix it but he doesn't quite know how.

"The headaches are getting worse."

She poses it as fact, not a question, leaving him no room to argue. Cloud bites at his lower lip.

He doesn't want to worry her more so he says, "They fade quickly." 

"But not quickly _enough_." 

She sighs and turns her head away. It's then that Cloud spots the hint of pink nestled in her hair. He's not thinking when he carefully detangeles the petal from the thick stands. It's only when his fingers accidentally brush against her ear when she shifts that his inplulse makes itself known to his brain.

"Y-you had a—" 

Words seem to stop working right for him so he forgoes them all together to hold up the petal instead. 

Aerith makes a soft noise of surprise and gently takes it from between his fingertips. She cradles it in her hands like a baby bird with a broken wing—just as fragile, and perhaps just as lost.

"Do you know the meaning of water lilies?" She asks, so soft he almost doesn't hear her. 

He runs through his mental list of all the flora and fauna he acts like he didn't memorize the moment she told him about them and comes up empty for this one in particular. 

He shakes his head, haltingly. "Tell me anyway." 

She stares a little longer at the petal before she closes her hands around it and stands up from the bed.

"It doesn't matter much," she laughs, nervous, voice with more strength to it now.

Cloud knows that's not true but doesn't try to push. 

"I'll get us something to drink," she says, and is gone before Cloud can say anything at all.

Cloud starts to piece his dreams and visions together and it becomes startingly clear that the girl is Aerith. Same ribbon. Same materia. Same... fate. 

Elmyra might have been on to something, wanting Cloud as far away from Aerith as possible. If it's the future he's seeing then the danger she's in may be because of him. He's the only radical that's suddenly burst into her life. 

He won't allow himself to be the thing that takes it from her.

"You'll be leaving soon, won't you?" 

The lamp post casts a glow which highlights the confliction on her face that Cloud knows is mirrored on his. He doesn't want to say his next words but for her he will. Aerith's safety is paramount.

"Don't ask me to stay."

Her expression crumbles and she looks like he just trampled all over her flowers, and maybe her hopes and her dreams too. And he hates this. That he's the cause of it. But if there's a chance his presence will bring her into danger then he can't risk it.

Can't risk _her_

The future without her pulse thrumming with curiosity and life beneath his hands is a future he refuses to let happen. 

Even if it means he has to leave her side. 

He feels raw and spit through the middle and maybe he's bleeding out.

It certainly feels like it.

He dreams of a sea of yellow blossoms and in the middle of the field, her. Pink ribbon tied high behind her head and a quiet grace to the line of her back.

He looks at her and he sees his whole future laid out before him and it only takes seven seconds for that future to be ripped away. 

A glint of silver; an ending. And a light is snuffed out forever.

She's nothing but flower petals in his hands that the wind steals from him to scatter into the air, taking them farther and farther away from him. The fields break apart to join them in the sky and when he blinks, the petals are fireflies. 

Blinks again and they're ribbons tattered at the edges. 

Again and they're rain drops pelting the barren ground.

("Hey, Cloud. What's your dream.")

( "... _You._ ") 

There's a banging at the front door and Cloud startles awake, reaching for a weapon that isn't there. 

He's on his feet and part way down the staircase by the time Aerith's bedroom door opens and she's sleepily asking Cloud _who is it_. 

She appears at the top of the stairs, her hair unravelled from it's everyday braid, and he gets distracted by the sight of it for a second or two. Or ten. He doesn't know how long, actually—he swears time stops when he looks at her—but it's long enough that Aerith decides she's gonna win this stare off, if her scrunchy look of determination is anything to go by. 

The knocking recaptures his focus again and he breaks eye contact to sneak down to the dining room to try and get a glimpse of their night time wanderer.

They've had guests before, of course. But all at reasonable times of the day. Not the dark hours of morning where the sun is just a silver of a memory at the horizon. He's cautious of visitors and rightfully so. 

"Why are we crouching?" Aerith whispers, in his ear. 

Cloud flinches hard, in surprise of her being so close, but also because of the breath ghosting over his neck.

Aerith moves back, rubbing at her eyes. They're a little red from her earlier staring contest—red, like her nightgown that has Moogles embroidered all of it. 

The sight reminds him of the sewing machine he's seen upstairs and he thinks of all the hobbies of Aerith's he still doesn't know of. Somehow, she keeps surprising him. Cloud shakes his head in fondness. 

"Maybe it's Reno? Or Rude. Tell them I'm not home! Or barter with the leftover pie in the fridge if you have to." 

Someone clears their throat then and it makes both of them jump. 

"Wildberry is all that's left and you know what happened last time Reno joined us for dessert. He keeps going on about his allergic reaction ever since," a voice says. 

"Mom! You're up too?" Aerith exclames. 

Elmyra comes to stand next to their crouched forms looking just as put together as she does during the day. Not a single crease to be seen on her matching mother-daughter moggle pajamas.

"How could I not be?" She scoffs. "They're making quite the racket." 

Cloud's brain finally catches up with the conversation and he gives them both a sour look. 

"That's my pie." 

Aerith stifles her giggling behind her hand and her mom actually rolls her eyes at him this time. 

Cloud has questions—many questions—about who those men are and why he should give them his homemade pie, but before he can voice them the insistant knocking starts up again. 

He catches sight of a face through the window paneling of the door. Black hair, blue eyes—

Before he can stand up to stop her, Elmyra reaches and opens the front door. 

"Wait!" 

He scrabbles for a weapon of any kind as the door swings back on it's hinges and a tall man bursts in, surprising them all. 

"Cloud!"

His name rings out loud in the small place and everything comes to a grinding halt. 

Cloud blinks and removes the umbrella from the man's throut. 

Aerith lowers her chair from over her head and places it back on the ground. 

Elmrya huffs out a breath and goes to put the kettle on. 

There, standing in the foyer, is someone he hasn't seen in quite a while.

"Zack?"

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what I'm doing but I always have clerith feels, so. After the beating the remake I feel empowered to make as many mushy clerith things as possible and wanted to do my take on some tropes/this kinda of AU.
> 
> So, thanks for reading and let me know what you think!


End file.
